Mine For Now
by GlassCase
Summary: 1962 New York City, the Madison Avenue Ad agency is not an easy place to work. Arthur is in love with a hopeless case, and with competition he knows he can never beat. For now he takes what he can get. Mad Men inspired. USUK mention of others.


Mad Men inspired. So yeah, Mad Men season 6 has sparked my obsession once again for the show and the time period and well this came to being. Siigghh…I figured it would be okay to use the show's premise since its not completely stealing the idea right? I mean there are a few USUK fanfictions with Harry Potter themes, so this is kind of similar to that sorta. Maybe not as cool D: I don't know, what do you guys think?

You do not have to watch the show to understand this.

Early 1960's America: super racist, sexist, homophobic, but fashionable time period. No hippies yet, think more like late 1950s, classy but not as conservative.

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_1962 New York City_

"I know you've heard about Mr. Jones' reputation…you know about how long his secretaries last here?"

Lily a young college student cast her turquois eyes up at the head secretary. The office was a large field of women clicking away on their typewriters. It was a fairly modern office building, with larger glass windows to bring in some natural light as well as show off the New York City skyline. "Um yes. The record is three months. At least that's what the girl hiring me said."

The head secretary smiled arching her thin eyebrow. She had a tall voluptuous body displayed amply by a tight emerald dress. Her brown hair tied neatly in the back and a clipboard in hand. In contrast to the much shorter and thinner girl next to her who didn't seem to get the memo that poodle skirts were out and showing a little skin was in.

"Well I'll clear your mind of any doubt, his last secretary past away and his others were rightfully fired, so if you don't die and do your job right you'll be fine."

Lily gulped quietly; this was her first official job and one that wasn't handed to her by her older successful brother. She had earned this job right on Madison Avenue at an advertisement agency by herself, granted they were desperate to hire, but there were many girls her age looking for a desk job just like this and in such a prime location. She just hoped Mr. Jones wasn't too hard to please.

"I'm Elizabeta, but please call me Liz." The older woman smiled and directed Lily to her new desk with a ready to use typewriter, phone, and intercom. "This is where you'll be working. The typewriter is a little complicated, but you'll have to get the hang of it fast. Mr. Jones' office is directly behind you."

Lily sat down and looked at the typewriter thoughtfully then back at Elizabeta, "S-should I go in there?"

The higher secretary looked at the watch on her wrist, "Its 12 o'clock, meaning its naptime. So just wait for him to step outside and introduce yourself probably in an hour or so. If anyone calls direct it to me, okay?"

The younger girl nodded helplessly, so she would just have wait around while her boss napped? "Alright. What if someone stops by?"

"They wont. Alright, I'll check on you at the end of the day." Elizabeta smiled and turned around. Lily wasn't exactly sure what to make of this place or the people. The woman who hired her seemed nice enough, Liz was nice but was strictly business meaning she had not one, but two bosses, and none of the other secretaries gave her a second glance.

Across the room multiple pairs of eyes watched the new girl stare at her typewriter and huff to herself.

The group of men stood by the coffee machine, one of them, an albino with red gleaming eyes snickered, "Fresh meat, huh? They're starting to look younger and younger."

The man next to him with bronze skin and green eyes laughed, "That's only because you keep getting older and older, mi amigo."

The albino rolled his eyes, "Speak English, asshole" and the other men laughed.

The Spanish man shrugged, "It slips sometimes. But anyway, who wants to introduce themselves first?"

Before a man could speak up a distinctly British accent boomed behind them, "Step aside cattle. I need to get to the coffee machine."

They each turned around to see a man in his mid-twenties dressed in a rolled-up collared shirt and sweater vest combination. His hair was an untamable mess of blond with not even an attempt to go for the slicked back look that currently all the other men were exhibiting. His glaring green eyes underneath two pronounced eyebrows and twisted expression were nothing unfamiliar nor threatening to the others who only smiled at the piercing look.

The red-eyed man smirked, taking a sip of his coffee. "Well isn't it Arsty Fartsy coming to say hello."

"Shut your trap, Gilbert." Arthur hissed and turned on the hot water to pour into his cup and putting a teabag inside.

"You're not even drinking coffee, what are you expecting the queen for tea time or something?"

Arthur didn't dignify that with an answer and walked away towards Mr. Jones' office, "The giant is slumbering!" Gilbert called out and the others laughed.

The Brit kept up his stride and walked towards the door when a mousey voice alerted him, "E-Excuse me, sir, but Mr. Jones is busy at the moment."

Arthur looked down and over at the new secretary, she looked so scared and fragile…She wouldn't last here. " I have no time for introductions." He stated brashly and pulled open the door walking briskly inside and slamming it shut behind him.

The men by the coffee machine looked at one another dumbly. "Creative types." One of them muttered.

Lily looked down at her hands in defeat, she wasn't going to last here.

Inside the office Arthur strode over to the man covering his face with his left arm, lying curled up on his black couch.

"Wake the hell up." He growled.

The other moved his arm and squinted up, "Wha..." He yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth, "What a nice surprise to wake up to. An angry limey, just for me." He grinned dumbly and searched around for his glasses.

Arthur folded his arms, "I can't believe how everyone here just lets you sleep. We have a deadline tomorrow. All the ideas I ran by you are apparently rubbish and you aren't even being helpful!"

Mr. Jones sat up, straightening his skinny tie and patting down his cobalt suit. Underneath his expensive suit and tie was a muscular body; broad chest and shoulders with long legs and a handsomely boyish face to complete the perfect picture. He groaned, slicking back his golden hair, "Give me five minutes to think Arthur." He pointed toward the minibar next to his desk, "Get me a drink will you?"

Arthur scoffed, "I'm not your fucking secretary. Get it yourself."

The American stood up, instantly forgetting his drowsiness and made two easy strides over to the older man. His blue eyes met defiant green, "I think you keep forgetting something, Arthur. I'm your superior. I respect you so I gave you a long leash, but it's still a leash and I can pull on it anytime I want."

Arthur's breath hitched for a moment as he unfolded his arms, "I was just saying that I'm your creative writer, not your secretary." He hesitated for a moment before heading towards the door, "I apologize for disturbing you, Mr. Jones."

The other man rolled his eyes and grabbed the other's wrist, "Its Alfred when the door's closed. Now let's just brainstorm some ideas." He said leading the other to the couch.

The Englishman sat down on the leather couch, his mind still a bit hazing as the man next to him withdrew his hand and placed his arms over his shoulders and on to the back of the couch cushions, "Okay so what do you think when you hear about Lucky Strike cigarettes?"

"Cancer." Arthur answered instantly.

"Right, how do you distract from that?" Alfred asked, getting out a pack from his breast pocket and pulling out a cigarette and lighter. "Want one?"

Arthur nodded and grabbed a cigarette, "We can't not mention it, and we can't lie and say it's a healthy fag, but I was thinking we can say it's a risk that's worth taking?" He asked as he put the cigarette to his lips as the other lit it for him.

Alfred sighed and inhaled the fumes, "As ad men, we gotta think like the customer. They know they're risking their lives with this they don't need a reminder."

"There's hardly anything I can mention that doesn't have to do with death. I smoke because I'm addicted, we're all going to die anyways might as well enjoy the bloody ride."

Alfred turned completely towards him, blowing his smoke to the side, "How do they make you feel? Good right? They wake you up like a cup of coffee, they relax you when you're on edge, they help you get through the day."

Arthur blinked at him and muttered, "They help you get through the day." He tested it on his tongue. "It's a bit melancholy. Like all their customers have constantly miserable days."

The American shrugged, "Everyone needs a pick me up. Plus its not lying." He said slowly dragging out the last of his cigarette.

Arthur thought it over, "It's actually pretty easy to remember. We'll just have to explain to the clients our thought process."

"Naturally." The other said putting out his cigarette on the ashtray of the coffee table, Arthur did the same and stood up. "Well wasn't that easy? I feel like all I have to do is talk to you and you come up with the idea all by yourself."

"That's why I'm the creative director, but you're not useless Arthur." The other grinned and stood up closely to the Brit, "You motivate me."

Arthur edged away slightly, "Great. My job is to get you off your lazy arse and think."

Alfred closed in, hovering, "That's not true." He whispered, his head dipped lower as he put his mouth near the other's ear.

The Brit's eyes widened, "You have a new secretary." He stated offhandedly.

"Oh?" The American muttered uncaringly, pressing his face and breathing into the other man's pale neck.

"She's a child. You won't be able to fuck her. At least not without feeling like some pedophile." Arthur groaned as the other bit into his neck.

"I've already told you I don't sleep with any of my secretaries. Too messy." Alfred said pressing his body in as close as possible, hands squeezing his lower back as Arthur grabbed his shoulders. "You get so jealous, it's cute."

Arthur grumbled, but held the American tightly, "That's why there's so many women crying in the break lounge obviously over you."

"No other guys cry over me." Alfred chuckled playfully.

"There are no other homos here besides me. I suffer alone." The Brit scoffed bitterly. He felt happy and miserable at the same. That's how he always felt around Alfred. The beautiful American ad man, everyone loved and feared him. Arthur felt lucky, he got to touch what so many other women wanted, of course it wasn't exclusive to only him…the American had a large appetite both for food and casual sex. He took what he could get, his only prize was knowing he was the only man in Alfred's life and his only competion were breasts and shapely legs.

"I care about you differently than I do about any of them. Besides it's not like you don't sleep around." Alfred stated quite matter of factly, peppering small kisses here and there, casually unbuckling the other's pants.

Arthur glared at nothing in particular. Perhaps at the office itself, it gave Alfred a big head, made him do and say things that were utterly ridiculous and presumptuous, "Of course." He lied as his pants fell to the ground. He helped the American quickly out of his simultaneously pressing their lips together, tongues slipping out and clashing in an almost frenzied pace.

Alfred fell on the couch first, bringing the other down with him and on his lap. "Gotta be quick. We have to run the idea by the art department."

The Brit hardly heard what he said, their members pressed together with only a thin layer of fabric between them and a was simply delicious feeling he could get high off in an instant.

Maybe this was worth the heartache he thought. Alfred would never truly be his, men couldn't be in relationships with other men. Society would never allow it. He also knew the other didn't want that in the least. That's why he broke off sex with women after a few weeks or so, because there was a slim chance at a relationship for them. For Arthur there was no chance like that in hell, he and Alfred both knew that and that's why the sinful sex continued.

And maybe it was more than he could ever ask for as he looked into those cerulean eyes, they were his for now.


End file.
